


Men Who Love Dragons Too Much

by baibao



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, Magizoology (Harry Potter), Pining, Slytherin Lee Jeno, Slytherin Na Jaemin, watch jaemin love jeno for their entire time in school basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baibao/pseuds/baibao
Summary: Jaemin always knew Lee Jeno was trouble. He had known it when they were eleven and losing themselves in the twists and turns of the Hogwarts Castle and Jeno brought him an egg for Christmas.“What’s in it?” Jaemin had asked, naïvely.Jeno, then, with all the light in the world and as though he held the stars in his small hands, pressed the warm, warm egg to Jaemin’s clothed chest with a smile. “Guess,” he’d said.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 224





	Men Who Love Dragons Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> i just saw nct dream recently and i had to finish this little thing from two years ago. it ended up being a bit longer than i originally expected, but i'm more or less satisfied with it.
> 
> there's also quite a lot of hp/magizoology terminology in this piece, so if you're in the middle of the fic, maybe ctrl+f or find in page to look the words up. or you can skip to the end notes and briefly read all the text. it shouldn't matter too much while you're reading, but it's there for you to refer to if you wish.
> 
> i hope you're well and taking good care of yourself. hope you enjoy this. ♡

**i.**

Jaemin always knew Lee Jeno was trouble. He had known it when they were eleven and losing themselves in the twists and turns of the Hogwarts Castle and Jeno brought him an egg for Christmas.

“What’s in it?” Jaemin had asked, naïvely.

Jeno, then, with all the light in the world and as though he held the stars in his small hands, pressed the warm, warm egg to Jaemin’s clothed chest with a smile. “Guess,” he’d said.

Jaemin didn’t need to guess, because he saw the way the orange light of the fireplace turned glossy green when it touched the curve of the spotted eggshell. And he’d _known._

“Where did you even get that?” Jaemin asked, spine forming a comma around and away from the egg. There was fright there, a heavy, sour sense of trepidation that grabbed onto his lungs until they sank beneath his stomach — but there was also awe, bright and warm and unfurling through the spaces between his ribs, and Jaemin never did seem to be able to shake any of those feelings when confronted with Jeno and his grand schemes.

Jeno smiled at him, secretive. “I’m going to name them Seol and Nal.”

“ _Them_?” Jaemin couldn’t quite help his squeak. “Jeno —”

“Twins.” He seemed so delighted as he held his palm to the egg, and Jaemin could only watch as the egg pulsed with light, shining through the delicate flesh of Jeno’s hand. “I can feel them. Two heartbeats.”

“Jeno, their mother —”

“Don’t you worry about that, Jaemin,” Jeno told him easily, stepping closer until their chests held the egg — the _egg_ — between them. “Seol and Nal. Pretty, huh?”

“You can’t name a dragon — _dragons_ ,” Jaemin sputtered, willing himself not to shy away. “They’re beasts.”

“Why not?” And Jeno’s eyes were so wide. His eyelashes had always been beautiful, long and thick and curled and dark where they rested on the peaks of his cheeks. Jaemin had nice eyelashes himself, or so his mother would brag to her sisters, but his had nothing on Jeno’s.

“You just,” Jaemin tried to breathe, “you just can’t.”

Jeno was still smiling, in that horribly stunning way of his that Jaemin learnt meant that Jeno _knew_ something that Jaemin didn’t.

“That’s not good enough of a reason, Jaemin,” he murmured, pulling back and shielding the egg with his robes. “They deserve names, too, don’t you think? Come, now, I know where we can keep it incubated in our room.”

Jaemin, stunned and feeling rather hopeless, let Jeno walk past him, until he gathered himself and followed after the other boy. “So you’re keeping it? Them?”

“Do you think my winter robes would do? It’s got a dozen warming charms on them,” Jeno mused loudly.

Pursing his lips, Jaemin knew he’d lost. He strode quickly, falling into step beside his friend. The egg was but an imperceptible bump where Jeno’s stomach should be under his thin robes. He tapped a nervous beat on his thigh, said, “I’ve read that dragon eggs can only be incubated in fire. Maybe the fireplace will do better.” Sighing, he added, “I’ll look it up.”

Jeno didn’t turn to him, but Jaemin could still see the smug curl of his lips. “Seol and Nal, yeah?”

Conceding never felt like defeat, when it was to Jeno. “I… suppose.”

  
  


**ii.**

Sometimes — or, perhaps, oftentimes — Jaemin considered Jeno’s Veela lineage. It had to be there, of course, he was convinced. After all, Veela were known to be beautiful, enchanting, and dangerous. Jeno was all of those, with his golden skin and his deep, slate eyes, and a smile that bared his soul and simultaneously hid everything from the world to see.

Jeno was dangerous. He was sharp, in more ways than one. Surely, it could not only be Jaemin who saw it, the manners in which he kept himself and the people whose attention and good graces he seeked. It was not as though Jeno was up to anything nefarious, but they were schoolboys, and there was only so much they could do — so much they _should_ do.

Jaemin saw this all.

“I don’t recommend this,” he said, faintly, peering into the trunk Jeno had dragged to the centre of their shared room. It was always a blessing, that they had been the only two Slytherin boys in their year.

Inexplicably, the trunk opened to a vast, deep emptiness, the likes of which Jaemin found difficult to comprehend and even more difficult to put into words. He pressed the base of a palm to his temple, feeling rather overtaxed. Again, he said, “I don’t recommend this. Completely on the record, I do not recommend this.”

“Well,” Jeno had the audacity to chirpily reply, clasping his hands in front of him in a show of bubbly excitement, as though what they were attempting was not going to land them in the Ministry if they buggered up, “too bad we’re not operating under your recommendation, hm?”

Jaemin restrained himself before he did anything disappointingly juvenile, such as flip Jeno two fingers and mouth _arsehole_ at the back of his smug head.

Instead, he watched in apprehensive silence as Jeno reached into the trunk. Deeper and deeper, until his head and his shoulders followed and Jaemin was left staring at the curve of his spine.

Swallowing heavily, he called, “Jeno?”

Jeno pulled back, just enough to twist his arm behind his back. Jaemin could only gape, horrified, as Jeno sent him a cheesy thumbs up and proceeded to fall into the trunk, shoes and all.

He was scrambling out of his bed before he realised it, and jumping after his best friend into the unknown.

“Why is it _wet_?” was the first thing Jaemin managed to choke out, socked feet curling in… whatever it was that covered the stone grounds of the — wherever they were.

Jaemin didn’t let himself linger; he jogged after Jeno, who was already, impossibly, quite a ways away.

“Don’t worry,” he was calling over his shoulder, wand out and swishing away the moss overgrowth that made the pavement dangerously slick, “it’s just water.”

Jaemin enviously eyed his leather shoes. He bet they were warm. “And if it’s not?”

Jeno only considered it for a brief moment. “Dragon piss.”

Jaemin groaned.

  
  


**iii.**

“What is that?”

Jaemin asked this in a resigned tone. Jeno was smiling, in that terrible way of his that spelt only awful things for Jaemin (like having to plunge into the Great Lake to comfort the Giant Squid and almost get kidnapped by merfolk, or sneaking into the kitchens to steal entire goats for Seol and Nal, or lying to the Headmistress’ face that _no_ , they were not responsible for the disappearance of the injured hippogriffs and _no_ , they did not know where they could possibly be and _no_ , they were most definitely not being treated in Jeno’s magical — _Magical_ — trunk stored under Jaemin’s bed in the Slytherin dormitories along with several other very, very dangerous beasts).

“It’s a kneazle,” Jeno informed him, stroking the ball of fur in his lap. Then, he added, not unkindly, “Don’t you know what one looks like? We’ve tackled this in Care for Magical Creatures.”

His voice was saccharine, yet one step away from calling Jaemin an idiot. He bristled. “Your trunk,” he said, very evenly, “is going to burst if you try to fit that thing in there. Or it’s going to get eaten alive. Either or.”

“I’m not going to shove Bongsik in there!” Jeno told him, eyes wide and horrified.

Dread slipped down Jaemin’s spine like tar. “You named it?”

“Her.” Jeno sniffed.

“Jeno…” He pursed his lips. “Kneazles aren’t among the approved pets within Hogwarts, you know that.”

“Neither are dragons, but no points have been taken yet,” Jeno said breezily.

Unable to help himself, Jaemin frowned. The kneazle — _Bongsik_ — was purring in Jeno’s reverent hold, tail flicking not unlike that of a cat’s. Jaemin hated himself for wondering whether a few Concealment and Disillusionment charms were adequate to convince everyone that Bongsik was actually a cat.

“The dragons,” Jaemin said slowly, forcibly heaving his mind through the haze and back into their conversation, “haven’t been seen by anybody yet. Hence, you haven’t needed to claim them as pets. Therefore, there is no issue there.” Of course, there was an issue there. Many issues, in fact. Jaemin just knew how to pick his battles after years of trying not to get either of them killed or, more shamefully, expelled. Sighing, he dragged fingers through his hair. He knew it likely stuck up horridly all over the place, but Jeno had seen him look worse, his appearance really hardly mattered to either of them. “You plan to keep the kneazle out in the open and not in your trunk. There’s a difference here, Jeno.”

Jeno only hummed noncommittally like the shit he was.

In his lap, the kneazle squirmed and made a sound that Jaemin could only truly categorise as a squee.

He hated himself so much.

  
  


**iv.**

Despondently, Jaemin informed him, “We’re not old enough yet.”

Jeno only wrinkled his nose adorably. “Of course, we are! Fourth years and up are welcome to join the Yule Ball.”

“We’re not old enough for anything fun,” Jaemin rectified, and it was the truth.

With the new regulations set in place, Jaemin was in France for little more than show. It did not matter that he was pushing fifteen years old — the rules were clear, Beauxbatons’ headmistress informed them in her thick accent, only students of legal age were permitted to participate in the events proper. And the Yule Ball, of all things, was not what Jaemin would consider to be an Event.

And it wasn’t, not really. It passed like any other evening in the beautiful Beauxbatons Chateau, just with Jaemin watching Jeno struggle through the night in his stiff formal robes. That was the only fun they got up to, as their Triwizard Champion, a tall, intimidating Hufflepuff named Johnny, stared all the younger students down into submission before the doors to the extravagant ballroom were even opened.

Eventually, Jaemin discovered that France wasn’t so boring, after a few weeks of wandering the halls of Beauxbatons and sharing classes with all the other wizards around. French combat magic was interesting, in that the inflections in wandwork were impossibly more specific than incantation and intent like it was in England.

Jeno was enjoying himself immensely, as evidenced by his daily perusal of the feeding grounds for the, more or less, tame beasts the Beauxbatons students and faculty kept. He made quick friends with the Wood Nymphs in the Dining Chamber who fawned over his ‘handsome face’ and ‘lovely manners’. He was especially delighted by the Abraxan horses, which Jaemin grudgingly agreed to be most fascinating with their fondness for single-malt whisky.

The first true event in the Triwizard Tournament, the entire reason they had to take awful portkeys in the shape of train carriages all the way to the Pyernees, was the first task. Other students had speculated great beasts to await the Champions for the opening trials, but no one was really surprised by the reality of it.

“That was disappointing,” Jaemin said frankly as they were ushered to their quarters. The rest of the Hogwarts students were abuzz around them, regaling great things about Johnny and how his wandwork was whip-smart like his broom flying, and he took care to keep his volume that only Jeno, whose elbow was digging into his side constantly, could hear.

Jaemin nearly assumed he didn’t, as he was quiet until they arrived in their shared room and asked, “What would you have done, then?”

“What?” He blinked, bewildered. “Done what when?”

“If you were a champion, and in the opening task. What would you have done?”

Understanding dawned. The first task was opposite a dragon, one for every champion in attendance. It was one of the oldest and most well-used tasks, during the Triwizard Tournament. A fan favourite.

To Jaemin, who had, despite his most impassioned protests, been raising Seol and Nal alongside Jeno for the last few years, the first task was a nightmare.

“I wouldn’t have raised my wand against it,” Jaemin said, honestly, and bit back his ire and offence at the surprised lift of Jeno’s eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have! It’s a captive dragon, and it would know by now that wands are only used by wizards who want to control it.” Leaning away from Jeno, he murmured, “And I wouldn’t want to control it. I’d only want the egg.”

Jeno was silent for a few, awful moments. Then his face contorted into a truly terrible scowl. Oh, what his parents would think. What their schoolmates would think. What the Wood Nymphs in the Dining Chamber would think — nobody would believe Jaemin. It was Jaemin’s turn to raise his brows, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Why are you — _ow_!”

Affronted and abused, Jaemin rubbed gingerly at the spot where Jeno’s fist sunk into his skin. Painfully.

“It’s better, then, that you can’t participate. You don’t deserve it. You’re too _stupid._ ”

“ _Hey_.”

  
  


**intermission.**

“It’s really good, you know,” Renjun said, once, over lunch. Jaemin was sitting across him at the Ravenclaw table. He wasn’t supposed to be here, really, but there weren’t any of his professors around, much less any of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws who actually cared about such petty stuff.

As it was, Jaemin continued to feed himself with one hand and flip through his Astronomy book with the other.

“Yeah?” he said, absentminded. “What is?” Astronomy was almost as difficult as Divination — not that either of them was difficult, per se. Not even challenging. Just… they were impossible to comprehend on a logical level. He never imagined himself receiving Acceptables on something as inane as Astronomy, but there he was anyway, slaving away for a course he had no plans on carrying onto O.W.L.s, much less N.E.W.T.s.

Renjun watched him. “What Jeno’s doing.”

That wrenched his attention away from his book, and he smiled politely. “What is… what do you mean?”

Elbow on table and chin in hand (how rude, thought Jaemin), Renjun smirked at him knowingly. “The thing with his creatures, Jaemin. I know you know what I mean.”

He trained his eyes back onto his book. The words blurred. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re so loyal,” Renjun simpered. “Which one’s his favourite? The kneazle? The bowtruckles?” Jaemin’s fingers held increasingly tighter, almost painfully, onto his fork with every word Renjun spoke. “The, hm, hippogriffs?”

Jaemin was hyper-aware of the people closest to them. A few Slytherin sixth years who couldn’t care less about the goings-on of their younger Housemates, a handful of Ravenclaw fourth years slumped over their textbooks. “Renjun,” he murmured, lowly, “we can talk about this elsewhere.”

“Can we?” mused Renjun. “You’re not going to speak, are you? You’re never going to put Jeno in danger like that.” His smile wasn’t unkind. “Are you his favourite, then? His loyal dog.”

Jaemin burnt hotly and dropped his Astronomy book before it could catch on fire. He scowled. “ _Renjun._ ”

Renjun sniffled, neatly finishing his lunch. “Well, I’ve been wanting to study by the Great Lake. The sunshine is lovely when the weather turns cold. You don’t suppose we can see into your dormitories from there?”

“How do you —?” Jaemin cut himself off with a groan. Of course, Renjun knew about Jeno’s beasts; of course, he knew where the Slytherin dormitories were hidden. What did Huang Renjun not know? “No,” he said, dutifully, “I don’t suppose so.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Jaemin eyed the remainder of his meal mournfully and followed Renjun away from the Great Hall.

  
  


**v.**

“No.” Then, “Absolutely not.”

Exhaustedly, Jaemin felt as though he had had to say the exact same words to Jeno an innumerable measure of times over the course of their relationship.

He observed the proffered tome in trepidation, refusing to touch it. He kept his fingers wrapped tight around the ribbons from the packaging of his mother’s most recent parcel. The title failed to escape his attention. “Animagi, Jeno? _No._ ”

“Come on, Jaem,” Jeno whimpered pathetically, shifting the long end of his scarf over his shoulder. He was pouting something awful. He had to be aware of it, of what he was doing, Jaemin lamented, he just had to. “This is a reasonable request.”

“Reasonable?” Jaemin tried not to scoff too rudely. He wasn’t all that remorseful to know that he was unsuccessful. “Quite the opposite of that, don’t you think? In case it has escaped your attention, love, but this is _illegal_.”

It told Jaemin quite a bit that Jeno hadn’t even taken the time to make a face at the endearment he’d always felt, very vocally, was cringeworthy.

“It’s only illegal if you get caught,” Jeno retorted smartly, and Jaemin seethed in his seat. He forced himself to relax his hands, lest he rip through his mother’s parcel and have to send her an owl along the lines of _sorry, I destroyed your present before I could open it._ She would never let him live it down.

“That isn’t a comforting thought,” he responded.

Jeno, of course, ignored him in lieu of opening the book. A puff of dust bloomed in front of their faces and Jaemin wrinkled his nose, feeling very vindictive that Jeno had to heave back before sneezing once, twice, thrice.

“Serves you right,” Jaemin said and cast a cleaning spell over the book, to rid it of its surely ancient grime.

Jeno sneezed again, then swiped at his face with the cuff of his sleeve. The white fabric came away smeared grey. “If I get an asthma attack from this, it’s only fair that you help me out, right?”

“No,” Jaemin enunciated clearly, “it’s not.”

Jeno had obviously not planned his rebuttals, because he only smiled beatifically at him and flipped through the pages. “Well, will you let me do this?”

 _No_ , Jaemin thought, _of course, not._ “Yes,” he said.

“You’re a bad liar,” Jeno smiled. “Perhaps you should work on that.”

“Oh, give me that,” he grumbled, reaching for the tome and sweeping his gaze over what seemed to be the introductory chapter.

  
  


**vi.**

“I’m going to write a book,” Jeno declared upon entering their shared bedroom. He climbed up from the ground, from within the impossible dimensions of the worn chest that harboured all his dearest creatures. His eyes were wide and gleaming with an excitement that made Jaemin want to press close and cling and simultaneously hide away. His hair — white as light from a colouring spell gone wrong, although he clearly hadn’t any problem with it — was a veritable mess about his head; damp with sweat and moisture, he had clearly gone flying. Was it with the old racing broom he’d smuggled to keep up with Seol and Nal? Or was it _on_ Seol and Nal? Jaemin didn’t really want to find out.

The gusto with which Jeno had appeared had sent Jaemin’s papers fluttering from where they had been spread out on the carpet. With a heatless glare, Jaemin called his parchments back to order with a spell. He waved at Jeno until he was a safe distance from his papers and a little closer to him. Jeno approached until his leg was nudging against Jaemin’s back, and Jaemin leant into its contact shamelessly.

“A book, hm?”

“Yes,” Jeno affirmed, a little intense and a little sweet, and pressed back against Jaemin. “A book.”

“Good for you,” Jaemin said as he sorted his homework into piles. He had spent a good part of the last hour looking through his graded papers and calculating his running marks. It would be horrible to find himself falling behind with Seventh Year only a few months away.

Jeno laughed, in the charming, soundless way he did, and bent down until his cheek was beside Jaemin’s. Jaemin took the chance and turned to kiss him close to his mouth soundly. Jeno’s eyes curved, pleased. “Aren’t you going to ask me what it’ll be about?”

“You’re going to tell me anyway,” Jaemin said teasingly. Jeno huffed a laugh. He kissed Jeno once more, this time at the very edge of his lips and held it for a beat longer, before pulling back. “I already know anyway.”

“You do, do you?”

“Yes,” Jaemin sniffed primly, smiling, “it’s going to be about your precious beasts and you’re going to ask me to find a way to get it published without you being sent to the DMLE. Or will it be the DRCMC?”

Jeno nudged him playfully. “Please, I won’t have to ask you to keep me out of prison. You wouldn’t want me to go where you can’t follow.”

“Of course not,” he admitted, shamelessly. “I love you.”

Jeno sighed, a stifled breath that felt warm against the side of Jaemin’s face. “Of course,” he agreed.

Jaemin held onto his wrist and tugged gently until Jeno was sat next to him. Jaemin gave his filthy shoes a pointed look and Jeno Vanished the dirt with his wand and a sheepish grin.

“I cleaned them before I came back,” he informed him.

“Sure,” was all Jaemin said on the matter. He eyed his papers, then Jeno’s face, then his papers again. With a flick of his wand, his stuff sorted themselves into folders and stacked themselves neatly atop his trunk. Then, he turned to Jeno and forced his arms open, wriggling into the space they offered him. Jeno’s chest rose and fell a tad out of rhythm, body still calming down from whatever mischief he made with his creatures. He was warm, a bit moist, giving off his own humidity that made Jaemin want to close his eyes and rest.

It was so, so cold in the dungeons, especially in the spring. He could hear the Giant Squid moving through the water of the Great Lake, its many tentacles swishing just outside their window. It was another creature that had taken a liking to Jeno, and Jaemin often found its massive carpal suckers attached to their window in the morning before they left for their classes. It wasn’t an infrequent thought Jaemin had, that he was grateful that the dungeons were sturdy, that the Hogwarts Castle reinforced protective and structural magic in the dormitories. He didn’t know what he would do should the glass break and let the Great Lake flood their bedroom and the rest of their dormitory. Their Head Girl would murder them.

“Jaemin,” Jeno called, combing his hand through Jaemin’s hair.

It was pink, now — a result of the same accident that bleached Jeno’s hair to hell. Renjun laughed at him when he saw it, but he was the one who helped turn the neon pink nightmare into a manageable cherry blossom pink. Jeno unnecessarily told him he reminded him of a featherless phoenix. Jaemin very curtly informed him that that was borderline offensive. In turn, Jeno said he had delicate sensibilities.

“Hm?” he hummed. His eyes were shut, he couldn’t find the strength in himself to open them.

Jeno made a soft sound Jaemin couldn’t decipher. “Would you like to go to bed?”

“No,” he protested, “I’ll fall asleep.”

“Alright,” he said, indulgent and fond and warm, and, wow. Jaemin loved this amazing, beautiful boy with everything he had. “Hm, thank you.”

“Was I speaking out loud?”

“Yes.” Jeno slid his rough palm over Jaemin’s forehead, pushing his hair down and surely making it a veritable mess. “Are you sure you don’t want the bed?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jaemin insisted, moving closer. He sighed happily as Jeno’s arms tightened around him. “Tell me, tell me about your book.”

“What do you want to hear about it?”

Jaemin couldn’t think. “Anything. Everything.”

“That’s a lot, Jaemin,” he said. “Make this easier on me.”

“That’s no fun,” he murmured.

“What a terror you are.”

“You love me,” he breathed, thumping his forehead against Jeno’s abs. He was satisfied with the pained grunt Jeno let out, and he kissed the wounded spot in apology. “And I’m a delight.” Before Jeno could say anything likely to be offensive to his ‘delicate sensibilities’, Jaemin demanded, “Tell me what you’ll call it.”

“What?”

“The book,” he clarified, “what will you call it?”

After a long pause in which Jaemin was probably, actually, guiltily halfway to sleep, Jeno said, “ _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much_?”

Jaemin had to laugh. Jeno’s own first edition of _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much_ was tucked away in a charmed, glass case in his family manor. He had a second, significantly not as priceless, copy of the textbook atop his bedside table, pages unfortunately dog-eared from his frequent study of it. He had a third, even more unfortunate and hopelessly valueless copy squirreled away in the shabby thing Jeno called an office in his ever-expanding trunk. It was likely covered in dragon piss and flobberworm mucus and mooncalf spit, amongst other things. Jaemin didn’t know; he’d never touched it after it disappeared into his trunk.

“You could get sued for that,” he said, once he calmed himself.

“Could, not would,” Jeno replied smartly and caught Jaemin’s hand before he could get smacked in the face. “That’s not very nice.”

Jaemin snorted and rolled over to his back. With great effort, he forced his eyes open to stare at the sharp cut of Jeno’s jaw and the dark fan of his eyelashes. He looked like a dream. Was he a dream? “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought of a name yet.”

“I’ll let you know what it is when I get the okay from my publisher,” Jeno told him nonchalantly.

It wasn’t a straight answer, but it was enough for Jaemin to play along and grin, “Oh, you will, will you?”

Jeno slid a hand beneath his nape and cupped it. “I made Seol and Nal pick.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you who won when we graduate.” Jeno’s eyes were soft. “It’ll be their graduation present to you.”

“Not yours?”

Jeno only smiled.

  
  


**vii.**

Jeno did not know where he was, but that was alright. He had his wand with him and the moon was still high in the sky.

The magic in the Forbidden Forest had always been a muggy, cloying thing, filling his senses with all the viscosity and weight of Steeler slime. It even burnt the same way. With the back of his hand, he rubbed at his nose to rid it of the stench of decaying and dark creatures.

When he lifted his head after a few beats and took in a breath, it was evident he failed.

By the feeling of the dirt under his feet, he wasn’t too deep into the Forest. He had yet to even spot flobberworms, which served as his marker for _mildly dangerous_ into _would make his mother worry_ territory. He was certain he could find his way back alone, even with the way he was. He wasn’t even near _would give Jaemin a myocardial infarction_ territory.

But he did not want to. The idea of trekking through the Forbidden Forest without company, after hours, and on a full moon did not settle well with him. It made his stomach clench uncomfortably and his chest feel heavy. He was not used to the sensation.

He should return while there was still enough moonlight to guide him, yet he found that he was not quite ready.

He was no stranger to the Forbidden Forest surrounding the castle grounds. At least, not alone. He did not actually remember a time when Jaemin did not first turn an indignant shade of puce before either following him out or sending him off on his way with a charmed communicator coin. Even then, Jeno spent a lot of his free time roaming the areas he wasn’t supposed to — the creatures there were always terribly lonely, after all, and Jeno didn’t mind keeping them company when he could.

When his fingers began to feel more like icicles and less like flesh and blood, he wondered if he made a mistake. Even when they were arguably the coldest chambers in the entire castle, the dungeons were notably warmer than the grounds this early in spring. He felt, for a long moment, envious of Jaemin, who was certain to still be in bed after a long evening of studying for his N.E.W.T.s. Before Jeno left their room, he checked the warming charms on Jaemin’s thick blankets and added a few more of his own. Jaemin didn’t sleep well until his cheeks were flushed pink from the heat. Jeno didn’t have any particular preference, but he has long since grown used to Jaemin’s need to go to bed like biscuits being slid into an oven.

He skipped over a shallow creek and drops of cold water splashed onto the ends of his trousers, instantly making him regret stepping foot down this end of the Forest. Hastily, he waved a warming charm over his trousers until the dampness faded and all that was left was the phantom coolness etched into his skin.

“Idiot,” he scoffed to himself. If Jaemin was around, he’d have fussed over Jeno, used at least three different warming charms, and guilted him into returning to the castle at once to take a tonic and go to bed. He smiled.

He came across a branch of Bowtruckles and paused to give them his greetings. A few of them followed him back into his trunk some years ago, and he made it a point to be pleasant to the rest of their branch whenever he did meet them. It was a pity he didn’t yet understand their language; they seemed like such entertaining conversationalists, always chattering angrily to anyone who would stop and listen.

He left them after a few moments, wanting to cover as much ground as possible that evening. There wasn’t even anything special happening, he just knew that this was something he had to do.

He would be graduating soon. Jaemin took to the idea like a phoenix to flames (and yes, he did look like a featherless phoenix with his pink hair and it was adorable, _he_ was adorable, regardless of how much Jaemin felt like Jeno was insulting him). Jeno knew he was set for some Ministry job, or even a Potions Master apprenticeship. He didn’t have the stomach for an Aurorship, but Jeno knew that the door was left open for him, should he wish to walk through it, Salazar, he could even be a Healer if he wanted to. Jeno could, too, some people would insist. But he didn’t want that.

He wanted to be a magizoologist. He wanted to work on his book. He wanted to travel the world and he wanted to meet all the lovely, lonely creatures hiding away from wizarding society and learn about them. He wanted —

Well, he wanted a lot of things.

He wanted Jaemin to be with him through all of them. Jeno never thought of his ambition as particularly selfish; humans craved many great things, Slytherins especially. It was natural, there was no shame in it. And neither was there shame in the manner in which Jeno wished to covet Jaemin for himself.

But he supposed it was, somehow, selfish. This. Him, and everything he felt for Jaemin.

He had a draft for the book he was going to write prepared already. He kept it in his office, for lack of better term, where he knew Jaemin would never find it, if only for the fact that Jaemin refused to come within a hundred metres of it. Jeno felt that that was a bit excessive; his office wasn’t that bad. Probably.

He did pick out a handful of names for the book and went around his grounds asking the creatures which sounded the best and most appropriate. They were all written on a long piece of parchment and Jeno was quite proud of it, until one Fire Crab got a tad too excited and farted flames in the direction of Jeno’s painstakingly written list and rid it of more than half its items. Of course, Jeno fed the Fire Crab and helped polished its shell lest it feel too bad about what was simply an ill-timed accident.

After that episode, however, Jeno just left the decision-making to Seol and Nal, who were finally at a maturity where they could control their flames.

He walked aimlessly, stopping to bow to a small herd of Thestrals. From the manner in which they bowed to him in return, Jeno knew they were the Hogwarts herd who pulled their carriages every year. Jeno remembered when he first saw them; it was after he’d watched one of the peacocks on their estate pass just beneath the window to his room. He remembered that peacock and how it would linger nearby whenever he was home. His mother told him, once, that it had been present when he was born. It had watched over his cradle as he slept and followed him about as he learnt to toddle, and then to walk.

It didn’t have a name Jeno could call it by — none of the creatures in their estate did. And even if he named them, they were all far too old to heed to him.

He thought, again, inexplicably, predictably, of Jaemin. Jeno promised in not as many words a fantastic graduation present — he could only wish he might deliver.

He was distracted by a mournful whimper and the padding of paws on tough ground.

He squinted ahead to see a wolf, oddly coloured in the dark. It appeared to have a tan coat which gleamed something peach in the faint moonlight.

It trudged forward slowly, a little wobbly on its legs like it wasn’t quite used to walking on uneven terrain, and kept at it until its snout tapped Jeno’s knee. It made another soft sound, and then it rubbed its big, furry face down the side of Jeno’s trousers. It pushed forward as it did, leaning its weight onto Jeno, who was only lucky to have his foot find stable purchase on the ground as to not make them both fall over.

“Where’d you come from?” he asked, smiling becomingly. The wolf was small, an adolescent, perhaps, pointed ears barely brushing his thighs. “There aren’t any wolf packs in the area. Did you get lost?”

The wolf chuffed and Jeno, who had never met a wolf or any similar creature that wasn’t a hunting dog or a domestic puppy the size of his hand, could not interpret it. Instead, he held his hand out for the wolf to sniff, smiling at the sensation of its little wet nose against his palm, and knelt down.

Even at its, probably, diminutive size for its species, the wolf had jaws large enough to break Jeno’s skull in one great crunch. Jaemin would be clawing at his face if he knew what Jeno was doing, then.

“Are you alone tonight?” he asked the wolf, staring into its eyes. He spoke to all the creatures he met; it was only polite. “I’m alone, too. Though I suppose neither of us are alone, then, if we’re alone together.”

This wolf had beautiful eyes. Jeno wondered if all wolves looked as this one did, like it was woven from sunlight, starlight, and moonlight all at once. He wished fervently that he had a camera with him.

The wolf made another chuffing sound, shaking its head in what seemed to be a despondent manner.

Jeno watched it in bemusement. “Do you not like that we’re together?”

The wolf raised its head to the sky, then walked in a circle around Jeno. As it did, it nudged him further away from a creek. Then it sat before him and whined until Jeno leant forward to understand what was wrong.

“Sorry,” Jeno said regretfully, “I don’t quite get it.”

The wolf growled, as though annoyed, and — 

Oh. He realised after a beat, and he could not help the warmth that ripped through him. “Oh,” he breathed, hands reaching out to hold the furry snout in his palms. He let his nose touch with the wet one of the wolf’s, beaming. “Oh, _Jaemin_. You did it.”

The wolf nodded, so very human-like, and it was only then that Jeno noticed the colour of its eyes. Gold, like the way Jaemin’s shone when the light hit them just right.

“You’re a beautiful wolf,” Jeno murmured, “and I’m so proud of you.”

Jaemin As A Wolf let his tongue loll and, in his overwhelming emotion, he jerked forward to swipe it up the side of Jeno’s face. Jeno laughed brightly, breathlessly, and wiped his cheek on Jaemin’s fur.

“Gross,” he teased, and Jaemin did it again.

 _I love you_ , he was saying, in the limited language of wolves of which inadequate humans such as Jeno could understand. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

“I know,” Jeno whispered, impossibly warm, and he let Jaemin lick at him again and again and again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think. ♡  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/jaemjens) | [cc](http://curiouscat.me/baibao)
> 
>  **quick hp vocabulary/things!**  
>  (honestly this is quite a lot, so it might be helpful if you just redirect yourself to the hp wiki and look up stuff there for more detail should you want it)  
> 
>
>> dragons: typically fire-breathing creatures that lay eggs. classified beast xxxxx by the ministry, which means "wizard killer; impossible to train or domesticate"  
> veela: think sirens, but land and sky. half-veela inherit magic from wizard parents and beauty charm from veela parents. classified being by the ministry, but are known to be dangerous to wizards  
> undetectable extension charm: expands the internal dimensions of an object without affecting the external dimensions, enhancing its capacity, and rendering its contents lighter; regulated heavily by the ministry and what i assume jeno will be using on his trunk (you'll see!)  
> great lake: slytherin dorms are in the dungeons, which means they're under the great lake and they have a view into it  
> giant squid: giant squid that lives in the great lake; sometimes plays with students  
> hippogriffs: half horse, half eagle creatures, immensely proud and extremely dangerous; beast xxx  
> kneazle: magical cat, basically; beast xxx  
> beauxbatons: french academy of magic  
> yule ball: sort of opening/christmas gala for the triwizard tournament  
> triwizard tournament: v dangerous magical contest between three of the largest european wizarding schools; students have been known to die during the trials so they raised the age requirement to 17 y.o. which is wizarding legal age  
> wood nymphs: ,, nymphs in france  
> bowtruckle: twig creatures; a group of them is called a branch; beast xx  
> o.w.l.s: ordinary wizarding levels; fifth year exams equivalent to muggle o-levels  
> animagi (s. animagus): someone who can transform into one animal and back with magic; you need to register with the ministry  
> phoenix: ,, bird made of fire that's basically immortal; skin is pink; beast xxxx  
> flobberworm: herbivorous, ten-inch, toothless brown magical worm  
> mooncalf: shy magical beast that only comes out of its burrow during a full moon  
> dmle: department of magical law enforcement  
> drcmc: department for the regulation and control of magical creatures  
> men who love dragons too much: book on dragons and dragon care for dragon tamers  
> forbidden forest: forest on/surrounding hogwarts grounds with many creatures, not all friendly, hence, forbidden  
> n.e.w.t.s: nastily exhausting wizarding tests; subject-specific exam that seventh year wizards take to help them pursue certain careers after their graduation, so passing these exams is critical  
> salazar slytherin: founder of slytherin house  
> auror: wizarding police/military/detectives  
> healer: wizarding doctor  
> fire crab: resembles a large tortoise with a heavily jewelled shell; farts fire; beast xxx  
> thestrals: leathery, skeletal horses you can only see after you've witnessed death; beast xxxx  
> 
> 
>   
> 


End file.
